


Get the Devil out of me

by Hectatess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Song fic, human!Meg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 18:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: As a specialist, Cas always gets the hard cases. But he also gets results. Maybe not by the usual methods, but results none the less. Now, they assigned him to a very special case, and he finds he gets more and more involved...After something went awry, Dean finds himself cuffed to a bed in a mental institution, a demon squatting in his head. The doctors all think he’s a crazy, schizophrenic and violent man, and one by one they give up on him. Just as Dean is resigning himself to being eternally locked up with a demon in his mind, he gets yet another new doctor...Based on the song ‘Get the Devil out of me’ by Delain.Look them up on YouTube. You might like them!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn my brain, connecting just about anything to SPN...   
> Oh Well. You guys get a fluffy new fic out of it.

_"I don't know what to feel,_  
_I don't know what to say..."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

  
Castiël picked up the clipboard with patient information. His next patient was a doozy. Violent tendencies, split personality, hyperactive sexdrive, a penchant for scheming and a foul temper. He sighed. One **special** guy they had said. He ran his slender fingers through his dark hair, messing it up even worse, making it look like he'd just left his bed after a very busy night. One of the nurses gave him the elevatorlook, before smiling enticingly. Castiël nodded deadpan, determined not to encourage her. He looked at the stats again and mentally squared his shoulders. This was why he had taken this job. This was his destiny.

oooOooo

Watching the door apprehensively, he ran the fingers of his right hand along the soft edge of the cuf on his left wrist. The new doc should come any minute now. His old doc had given up, or given in, depending on your view. The fourth one in a row... And that was just in this joint. He'd run through doctors and institutions like other people ran through dispensible razorblades. A mad cackle escaped his mouth. This doc would soon be gone too and then another. They'd never heal him... He was too far gone anyway. "Shut up, Alastair." he snarled and tried to clock himself, but the restraints prevented him from succeeding. In his head, Alastair laughed wheezingly. Too busy with cussing out Alastair, he never heard the door. "Mr. Winchester?"

The gravelly voice had him spinning his head around. The new doctor stood before him and all he could do was gape. Inside his head, he could feel Alastair lick his chops. The new doctor was a fine example of mankind. Tall, though a little shorter than him, a lanky, yet muscular frame, pink, slighly chapped lips, a little stubble on his jaw, stunningly blue eyes and lovely, dark sexhair. Swallowing, he finally found his voice.  
"Yeah... That's me. At least, for now... I got him down for a bit. Not sure he won't resurface soon. Your presence might make him want to take control again. He likes pretty boys like you. He'd love to see how long it takes to break you. The last doc only took him four weeks..."

The doc hadn't moved a muscle, his face impassive, but his eyes showed a certain annoyance. "Mr. Winchester..." the gravelly voice sounded slightly annoyed too.  
He grinned animalistic. "Dean, please..." The doc raised an eyebrow.  
"Mr. Winchester, I'm your new doctor. My name is dr. Novak. Now, I see here..."  
Dean interupted him. "What's your real name, doc? You have mine..."  
The blue eyes got so hard, they started to resemble saphires. Dean liked it, Alastair even more. 


	2. Chapter 2

_"I don't know what to do._  
_What makes me treat you this way."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Castiël saw the restraints on his patient as he threw a glance at him through the reinforced window in the door. Castiël hated cufs and restraints. In his experience they were hardly ever necessary on humans. Suddenly the man whipped his hand around, as if he was trying to hit himself. Shocked and curious what could have instigated this, he opened the door. The eyes of the man on the bed were emeralds full of hatred and his pink lips moved ceaselessly, as if he was silently cussing. "Mr. Winchester?" Castiël tried.

  
The man whipped his head around and wordlessly he gaped. If nothing, Castiël had patience and one Hell of a poker-face. He took in the youthfull appearance, the amazingly green eyes, the symmetrical features, the short, sandy hair, plump, pink lips and an attitude from here to next Tuesday. The rant about "him taking control" and "liking pretty boys" didn't fase him. That was run-of-the-mill talk for a lot of Castiël's patients. The fact that he implied that Castiël could be broken, **that** irked him.  
The guy grinned like a tiger when he said that Castiël could use his first name. Deep in Castiël's gut something twitched. Outwardly, he only raised an eyebrow. Best to stay professional, Castiël told himself. That same resolve got tested the very next time mr. Winchester opened his mouth. "What's your real name, doc? You have mine..."

Castiël pulled up a chair, twirled it around and sat down, arms folded over the back rest. "Mr. Winchester, I am not here to become your best buddy. I'm here to see if I can help you cope with the rest of the world."  
The man smirked. "Yeah, sure thing, doc."  
Castiël inwardly sighed and picked up the clipboard. "Now, please, explain to me why you are restrained."  
Dean shot him an unbelieving glance. "Doesn't your fancy chart or file tell you? I'm nuts. I often try to hit myself, well Alastair, actually. He tends to get me pissed off."

Castiël relied solely on his ability to deadpan. His insides were screaming. His head pounding and his heart running wild, Castiël felt the world shift. That name... What are the odds of a random, well not so random, guy picking that name for his second personality? "That's an interesting name. Where did you get that?"  
Dean tilted his head. "Get it? I didn't 'get' it. The freaking name came with the squatter."  
Castiël took some notes, not in Dean's folder or on his chart, but in a private notebook. "Squatter... Does it feel like that? Like someone is hitching a ride inside?"

Dean cocked his head. "Are you serious? You're not going to tell me 'there is no-one there. You're all alone inside your noggin'."  
Castiël wrote some more, surreptiously glancing at his patient. Dean suddenly stiffened.  
"Shut up, you asshat. No. No, I **won't**. Holy **Hell** , Alastair! You perv!" he hissed, and his hand shot up, as if to hit himself around the ear.

Dean looked up at Castiël with an innocent smile. "I'm sorry, doc. Alastair is being a gigantic douchenozzle."  
Castiël merely raised an eyebrow again. "Really? And what does mr. Alastair have to say?"  
Dean actually blushed and looked down. "I'm not telling you, doc. That asshat is a real pervert, and I don't want to upset you." He looked up again and the bashful expression on his face was really very cute. "I actually think you're ok, for a shrink."

Castiël couldn't help it. He smiled. "I think you are ok too, Dean. For what it's worth, I will do my utmost to help you."  
When Dean's face lit up as Castiël said his name, Castiël silently sighed. He had screwed up already. Getting too close was dangerous.  
"Thanks, doc!" Dean said, smiling and showing off a dimple.

From one moment to the next, Dean changed. He sat up straighter, his smile turned into a leer and his relaxed hands started fidgeting. "Yeah... Thanks, doc... You will be fun to break." he said in a totally different voice. It sounded more nasal and drawling, and a full pitch higher.  
Castiël scribbled more.  
"Now, why don't you leave me alone, before I tear you apart?"   
Regally unconcerned, Castiël looked up. "Well, well. Alastair, I presume?"   
  



	3. Chapter 3

_"I get numb in my bones_   
_I get numb in my heart."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

"My new shrink, I presume." Alastair answered smugly, and, locked inside himself, Dean was forced to sit and await his chance to get control back from Alastair.   
_'Damn! Damn!! DAMN!!! I shouldn't have let on that I actually **like** our new doc. Alastair will rip him to shreds! I'm sorry dr. Novak.'_   
Alastair felt Dean's guilt and happily fed off it.   
"Yes, indeed I am, Alastair. Now, could you tell me why you have decided to share a body with Dean here." the doc answered calmly.

Alastair laughed his wheezed laugh, and Dean felt his teeth stand on edge, knowing it came from his body.   
"He is such a fine piece of ass, doctor. Everybody wants a bit of him. Guys, girls, and this one... He don't mind. He'll just as easily get down on a guy or a girl. And doc..."   
Alastair used Dean's body to lean in on the doctor, making Dean flinch with the blatant disregard for personal space. The doc, however, seemed unconcerned.   
"He **likes** to bend over and take it." Alastair finished his sentence.  
Inside his head, Dean moaned in frustration. That asshat didn't just say that to the sexy doc, now did he?   
Dr. Novak merely scribbled more. "Just as an aside, Alastair, I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation. So if you were looking to shock me, you'd have to do better."   
Inside, Dean whooped and mentally high fived the good doctor. That single comment made Alastair lose his smug selfconfidence, and **that** was the handle Dean needed to get back behind the wheel of his own body.

oooOooo

Castiël imediately noticed when Dean came back. A deep blush coloured his cheeks, and he ducked his head.   
"I'm sorry, doc. I told you he was a pervert." Dean mumbled.  
Castiël tapped his pen on the clipboard. "That's ok, Dean."   
Dean shook his head. "UGH. He always leaves such an urge to go bleach myself. By the way, thanks for unsettling him. I could get control back sooner than I expected, because of that."

Castiël quickly scribbled that information down. "Really? Hm. Interesting. This Alastair seems quite the alpha male. Does the hyperactive sexdrive come from him too?"   
Dean stared at him. "Geez doc! What kinda question is **that**?!"   
Castiël never stopped scribbling. "A necessary one, I'm afraid, Dean. It helps me to know such things. Believe me, if I didn't have to know, that question would have never crossed these lips." and he pressed two slender fingers to his mouth.   
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and the nurse that had given Castiël the once over popped her head around. "Dr. Novak. There is someone here you should meet."

Standing up, Castiël turned to her. "I'll be right out, nurse." He looked back at Dean. "Please, Dean... Stay in charge there. I'll be back swiftly."   
Dean mutely nodded and Castiël hurried out the door. The nurse stood waiting for him in the hallway. "I put him in your office, dr." she said, casting him another one of those smiles.   
"Thank you, nurse." Castiël said, distracted.

Who could want to see him? In the office there stood a very, very tall man, with shoulderlength hair and a worried expression on his cute face.   
When he saw Castiël, he held out his hand. "Dr. Novak? I'm Sam Winchester. I understand you are my brother's new doctor."   
Castiël just stared at the hazel eyes. When Sam moved his hand, to implicate that he expected it to get shaken, Castiël blinked and finally took the slender hand in his own.   
"Yes.. Yes I am. I'm sorry. I just didn't see the resemblance at first. But you do have some similarities. Please, sit. How can I be of assistance?"   
The tall man folded himself into the uncomfortable plastic seat. "I'm just hoping that you'll listen, actually." he said meekly.

Castiël merely nodded to get the man to keep talking.   
"I'm telling you, doc. My brother is not sick." the man said urgently.  
Cas steepled his hands and touched the tips to his lips. "I never said he was, mr. Winchester."   
The young man flashed him a look.   
"He isn't crazy either." Sam said with a certain determination.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Why don't you leave me alone,_   
_Before I tear you apart?"_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Castiël sighed. "Mr. Winchester..."   
The young man interupted him. "Sam, please."   
That made Castiël smile. "You are his brother allright. Anyway, Sam, my patients are never crazy."   
Sam tilted his head questioningly.   
"They are disturbed, troubled, yes, but never crazy. I am fairly certain I can help your brother."   
Sam huffed. "Yeah, right."   
Castiël blinked. "Excuse me?"   
Sam suddenly leaned over. "Listen doc, if you really, really wanna help, give me the right to visit. All I really need is about half an hour, once."

Castiël quickly reviewed the situation in his mind. "I'm sorry, Sam. I can't. It's too dangerous."   
Sam's face grew desperate. "Dean won't hurt me, doc. I **know** he won't!"   
Castiël felt sorry for him and he wished that things were totally different. "You know what happened, don't you?"   
Warily, Sam nodded, not sure if the doctor meant what "happened with Dean to get this way", or "what happened when he had nearly strangled that guy with one hand".   
Castiël lowered his eyes. "Then you know why I can't allow you to visit."   
One slender hand shot up and combed through the dark blonde hair.   
"Come on, doc. Dean is my brother! He won't hurt me!"   
Castiël locked his cerulean eyes on the desperate hazel ones. "He won't, but Alastair might."

Sam's jaw dropped.   
"Listen, Sam, when I left, Dean was in control, but if I allow you near Dean, Alastair might decide to take over, and he does **not** play nice."   
Sam blinked slowly.   
"Please, believe me when I say I think I can help." His eyes never left Sam's during this, and Sam swallowed. "I... I believe you, doc."

Castiël blinked and smiled. "Thank you, Sam. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to Dean. Would you like me to tell him you said Hello?"   
Standing, Sam was almost offensively tall, but he still managed to look like a scared and lonely little boy. "That'd be great, doc. Thanks... Tell him.... Tell him he'd better not give up. Yeah."   
Castiël smiled."I know even better. Write him a note. I will pass it on." Smiling, Sam grabbed a notepad and a pencil to scribble a quick note.

oooOooo

Dean was close to screaming. He was still in control, but Alastair had been taunting him non-stop about the good doctor and how Dean might like to 'treat' him to various sex acts. That bastard had noticed how **hot** Dean had thought the doc looked with those two fingers against his pink, chapped lips. "You're a swine, you know that, don'tcha?" Dean hissed between his teeth.

"Excuse me? I hope that wasn't meant for me, Dean." The gravelly voice had a hint of amusement in it.   
Dean's head shot up and his green eyes were wide with shock. "I'm sorry, doc. Alastair isn't being the quiet houseguest I'd hoped he would be."   
The doc nodded. "Here. I was asked to hand you this." he said and held out a piece of folded paper. Dean stretched out his manacled hand and took it with trembling fingers. He unfolded it and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Sammy's handwriting.

'Hey, jerk.   
I think we've got a winner here.   
This doc actually seems to know things...   
Hang in there. We'll get you out!   
Bobby sends his love too.

Sam'

Dean felt his eyes tear up. Sammy... He missed his sasquatch brother so much, it hurt. Alastair stirred, but the fact that Sam had underlined the word 'know' three times had given Dean enough hope to keep Alastair down. "Can I write back, doc? Please?" he begged.  
The doctor smiled and handed him a crayon. "Of course, Dean. If you hurry, I might still be able to give it to him. He's not gone home yet."   
Dean smiled. "That'd be great!!" Quickly he wrote on the back of the note.

'Thanks, bitch.  
You know... I think you might be right.  
Don't be hasty, though.  
Wait for the good things.  
Tell Bobby to keep the Hunters Helper in stock.  
This idjet isn't gone yet.

Dean'

He folded the paper and handed the note to the docter, who didn't look at it and just said: "I'll be right back."   
Dean watched the doctor leave and strained to catch anything through the window in his door. He could see the back of the dark sexhair and... Sam! He actually caught a glimpse of his baby brother as he read his note. The broad smile that lit up his features warmed Dean through and through, shuffling Alastair deeper down.   
Sam was talking and he actually shook his head slightly, still smiling. Dean watched as Sam clapped the doc on his shoulder and turned around. Dean buried the sting of feeling left alone right next to the burn of missing Sam. Such feelings were an open invite to his squatter.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I don't know what to do._   
_It always ends the same way."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Castiël was glad that Dean's brother understood him. This could be a great help for Dean. "Well then, Dean. Shall we get back to our question? You should have had the time to formulate an answer."   
Dean swallowed. "What question was that, doc?"   
Castiël raised one eyebrow. "Now, Dean. Please be coöperative. I have a surprise planned for you, but you'll only get it if and when you are answering my questions."

Sighing, Dean picked at his cufs. "Allright... It's mine... But he puts it in overdrive. If I so much as think about flirting, he has been there, done that and gotten the T-shirt. It's very disturbing."   
Castiël scribbled in his notebook again. "I can imagine... But even with your hyperactive sexdrive, you still respect your partners?"   
Dean blinked. "Why not? Often enough they are the ones instigating the sex. I always make clear I'm just there for the one time. I don't lie to people I sleep with. Not about things like that."

Castiël saw Dean revise the second to last sentence, then add the last. He jotted it down.   
"Right. The foul mouth, well I think I can split that one both ways." Dean smiled, his eyes twinkling. _'Oh dear... He is quite the specimen.'_ Castiël thought, trying not to note that Dean was in quite a good physical health, despite being locked up for months, probably restrained most of the time.

"Yeah, well, what can I say, doc. A foulmouthed drunk for a Dad. You don't get an Ivy-League upbringing, if you get my drift."   
Castiël hummed assent and wrote some more. "Dean... The biggest question for me is this... The violence, the scheming and the temper... You, or him?"

oooOooo

Dean felt more himself than he had in weeks, Hell, **months**! The hope that had blossommed inside him since he'd met dr. Novak, no since the good doc had sassed that asshat demon, had given him the tools to work Alastair down and keep him there for more than an hour. His presence was still there, but quiet. Like burried under a ton of blankets. Getting that note from Sammy had increased his hope. (Add a blanket.) Being able to write back (one more) and even catch a glimpse of his baby brother and his radiant smile (worth about five blankets), that was the cream on the pie. When the doc returned, Dean hoped that he'd forgotten his question about the sexdrive, but no, the good doc had an equally good memory (minus one blanket.). _'I really don't wanna discuss sex with you, doctor Sexy. I got a vivid imagination and a demon squatting inside me. I'd rather pass.'_ But his evasive action got nipped in the bud. The doc had seen him coming a mile away. Dean was intrigued by the idea of a surprise. _'Well now, dr. Sexy, how would **you** be able to surprise **me**?'_ he thought, trying to keep his thoughts on books or maybe tv-time.

Then he remembered. The doc had talked to Sam. Actually listened and Sam had smiled at the doc and clapped him on his shoulder. The doc had arranged something with his brother... Not his release. He wasn't that dellusional. But if Sammy was in on it, it had to be good. (Two blankets in the pile.). So, honesty. Wasn't that the best policy? Dean sighed and picked his cufs, before answering. Talking to this doc made being honest so easy, that he almost slipped up. He lied to his bedpartners, of course. A hunter always lies about himself. Part of the job. But he'd never lied about how he saw sex. It was fun, it was easy and just for the one time. The doctor's remark about his foul mouth, tickled his funny bone. Yeah, he knew he wasn't parlour material, but Hell, he didn't want to be.   
The doc's gravelly voice interupted his thoughts. "Dean... The biggest question for me is this... The violence, the scheming and the temper... You, or him?"


	6. Chapter 6

_"Oh I have been here before._   
_I know the rules to this game."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Dean swallowed hard. _'God, doc. You really don't think that's all me, do you?'_ He looked up at the doc with pleading eyes, trying to show he was really being honest.   
"I think the grounds are mine. I mean, my job... It isn't the easiest, and you do have to carefully plan stuff, but it's like with the sex thing... He magnifies it all. Blows it up. You get what I'm saying?"   
The doc pursed his lips thoughtfully. (Oh god! Minus two blankets.)

"I think so. Carefull planning is a bit like scheming, but more legit. And defensive fighting is quite different from charging in and starting to land blows."   
Dean nodded, impressed. The good doc got his metaphore. (Add one blanket)   
"Well, Dean. I think I have gotten my answers for the day." doc Novak said.  
Dean almost groaned. He didn't want the doc to leave.   
Doc Novak checked his watch, nodded to himself and pulled a hand through his dark hair, making Dean wish it was his hand. (Damn, there went another blanket.)   
The doc turned his cerulean eyes on Dean and smiled. "You stay in charge, Dean. I'll be right back." With that he turned to the door and left, Dean straining to keep his eyes on him as long as possible. (Crap, minus two)

oooOooo

Castiël was very satisfied with Dean's answers. They got him a very clear picture. He checked his watch. Nearly fourty minutes. That should have given Sam enough time to send him that email. He got up and left Dean, after promising him he would be back shortly.   
Hope, Castiël had noticed, was a strong aid to keep his patients in charge of themselves. The door closed on him and he looked around the hall. It was empty. He closed his eyes and opened them again to find himself in his office.   
He sat down and opened his email. Two new messages. One from Gabriel, his big brother, and one from Sam.   
At first when he opened the latter, he felt a little disappointed to see only five attachments, but the mail explained it all.   
Smiling, Castiël plugged in the device and dragged and dropped. A quick search through the office for the last bit, and he was good to go. This would help Dean control his squatter.   
While he was waiting for the download to complete, he opened Gabriel's mail.

'Hey bro!  
So, I pulled a few strings, cashed in a few favours, and guess what?  
You were right. The guy has left the basement and hasn't been spotted since.  
It could very well be that he is said squatter.  
If so, please take care. He is one nasty customer.  
I'm too fond of your big baby blues to lose you.

Loki'

Castiël smiled. Silly Gabriel, always with the undercover names and coded messages. He deleted Gabriel's message, disconnected the device and shut down his computer. Another check on his watch. Only fifteen minutes since he left Dean. Good.   
He strained his ears to hear any movement outside the office. _'Darn. There's that annoying nurse again. What's her name? Mary, no. Margaret? No. Meg... Yes. Meg. UGH. She is so pushy and obvious. Can't she take a hint?'_  
Sure enough, he could hear her now. "Dr. Novak? Are you in here?"   
Castiël sighed. "Yes, I am. What is it, nurse?"   
Meg sidled into his office, closing the door behind her back. "I was just wondering, Clarence, why have you been holed up with patient 124 all day? I thought the file said it all. He's cracked and there's no helping him."   
Castiël looked down at her regally. "It is not your place to diagnose a patient, not is it any of your concern why I spend time with him. Just as an aside, I have not been 'holed up with him all day'. I have come in halfway through the day, visited four other patients before him, and I have left his room to talk with his brother. Which you should know, since **you** let him in my office."   
Meg looked unabashed. "Geez, Clarence, always so litteral. I was just wondering if you might be free for the evening, you know, get a drink, maybe a few more. Get to know eachother."

Castiël shuddered internally. On the outside he merely raised an eyebrow. "I am disenclined to do that. You can't even remember my name properly. It isn't Clarence. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He opened the door for her to leave.   
She brushed past him in a cloud of heavy perfume. "Let's call that a raincheck then, huh Clarence.."   
Castiël tried ignoring the perfume and the innuendo. "Let's not. I've got work to do. Goodbye." 


	7. Chapter 7

_"Though I try not to lose,_   
_In the end I will fall."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

While he walked back to room 124, Castiël was worried. That stupid, flirty nurse had cost him over five more minutes. He was afraid Alastair would have surfaced again in that time. He pushed open the door to the room, only to stand frozen. On the bed, restraints creaking under the strain, Dean lay, his back arched painfully, convulsing badly. Castiël heard his own voice tear out his name. "DEAN!!!!" He rushed towards the bed, landing on his knees with a resounding thud.

"Dean... Dean.. Come on..." Franticly, Castiël let his fingers search the exposed neck for the pulsepoint, but the tendons in Dean's neck stood out so hard, that this was difficult. Whispering under his breath, Castiël wiggled his fingers as if playing the piano, until finally, they found that weak throbbing.   
Dean's pulse was racing against Castiël's fingers and his other hand flew up to the forehead, to check Dean's temperature. Normal. Castiël swallowed hard, pushing down his initial panic. Right then. No physical reason for the convulsions. Time for the bigger guns. _'Fine then, Alastair. I'll call you out.'_ Cas thought, his mind calm once more. He got up, trying to ignore the thrashing man on the bed, and closed the door quietly.   
He took his chair once more, sat down and in a clear, stable voice called out. "Christo."   
Dean's body shivered, but fell quiet. When he opened his eyes, they were opaque white, almost like pearls.   
"Such a foul mouth on you, doctor. I'm surprised at you." the nasal drawl of Alastair came from Dean's mouth.

oooOooo

Dean had watched the doctor go, trying to ignore the way the slacks the man wore made him look all the more desirable. Alastair was clawing his way through the layer of hopeful blankets and Dean needed to keep a level head.   
"Oh... Feeling brave today, are we, Dean?" Alastair drawled inside his head.   
Dean felt anger flare up. "Yeah, I am. I'm not going to let you break this doc. He deserves better."

Alastair huffed. "You can't stop me, human. I can make you do things you don't even know."   
Dean snorted. "I don't care. This doc is good, and I honestly think we'll get a chance to get you out of me and me out of this Hellhole."   
Dean felt Alastair do the mental equivalent of a shrug.   
"I warned you." he merely said.

Suddenly Dean felt his spine was on fire and he arched his back off the bed. The muscles in his arms sized up painfully and his legs started thrashing.   
"You know, Dean, I sent that hot nurse, Meg, to delay your precious doctor. If she's successful, I can have you in such pain for a mighty long time... See if you got any fight left in you after that." Alastair sounded like a cat that found the cream.   
"F.... Fuck you.... Ala... Alastair..." Dean managed. He could hear Alastair start his wheezing laugh.

All of a sudden Dean heard his name. It was ripped from a throat in a gravelly voice and dispair and shock sounded through.   
_'Doc.... I'm ok, doc. I'm not sick...'_ Dean could feel his heart race with the extra adrenaline his body was producing to counter the pain. He could also feel the cool fingers of the doc search for his pulse. Then the coolness of a hand to his forehead.   
_'I'm cool, doc. We should just get this asshat out of me. I'll be right as rain.'_

Somewhere in the distance, Dean heard the dry click of his door shutting.   
For one icy cold moment, Dean feared that the doc had left him, but then he heard the doc's gravelly voice, calm as you please. "Christo."   
Dean shivered, feeling his awareness pushed aside by Alastair. His last thought, before losing his control, was: _'I hope you know what you're doing, doc.'_


	8. Chapter 8

_"Better to have you in tears  
Than not to have you at all."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Castiël was unimpressed with the show Alastair put on. He thought it was a pity that the beautiful green eyes of Dean were obscured by the demon's true eyes, but he was far from impressed.   
"Sorry to be an inconvenience, Alastair. I will try and clean up my language. Why were you torturing Dean?"   
The handsome face contorted into an ugly leer. "Because... Dean was starting to fight again. Saying you deserved better than me breaking you."

Castiël raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think you can break me?"   
The leer intensified, his tongue lolling out, licking the corner of his mouth. "Oh, dear, stupid human... You don't know what you're messing with..."   
Castiël felt sick to his stomach from dealing with this creature, but he still had questions. "Why now? You knew I was coming back soon."   
Another wheezing chuckle. "I thought I had that covered.... I sent that hot nurse after you. Heheh... Boy does she carry a torch for your baby blues... She almost jumped at the chance to get in your pants."

More licking and Castiël felt sorry for Dean. The corner of his mouth would be raw tomorrow.   
"What is it with you that gets all the hotties all gooey? I know Dean would like to jump your bones too. Well, never mind. I got control back, and this time, I won't let go that easily." the demon growled. He chuckled again and Castiël suddenly understood Dean's need to punch. This guy was insufferable.   
Trying to decide to quit or keep asking, Castiël played with the thing he was holding in his left hand. Making up his mind, he quickly stood up and placed it on Dean's head in one fluïd move. "What's this, doc? Going to do some electro-shock therapy? I can just take the backseat and come back behind the wheel while Dean is out." Alastair drawled, clearly not bothered.  
Castiël smiled sweetly and pressed the button of the device in his pocket.

  
oooOooo  
Dean moaned. Damn. Alastair hadn't used the kid gloves to shove him from the cockpit. Alastair told the doc he was fighting, and a sliver of hope burned inside him.   
He hoped the doc got that. That he was willing to get that bastard out.   
The regally cool reply from the doctor was another ray of light.   
He didn't seem impressed by the threat that Alastair wanted to break him. He heard Alastair taunt the doctor, and he hated him for it. The doctor deserved way better than the sexual innuendo Alastair kept throwing at him.   
Although, he was right that Dean **really** liked the doctor. He wouldn't say no to some cuddling with that man. The sensation of something clamped over his ears startled him.   
A chill went through him when he heard Alastair's comment about electro-shock.   
_'Please, no...'_  
His hopes dashed, Dean wanted to curl up and disappear, but suddenly he heard something very familiar.

"Carry on my Wayward son.  
There'll be peace when you are done.  
Lay your weary head to rest.  
Don't you cry no more."

The familiar tones of Kansas burst through the cocoon of dispair that was holding Dean.   
Music... **His** music!   
The surprise the doc had for him. He must have had Sammy tell him what Dean liked to hear. What would give him some sense of himself.   
Dean laughed. A sound he had been sure he would never make again! He felt himself grow with every note. He pulled Alastair out of the driverseat and gladly took back reign over his body.

oooOooo

Castiël watched intently what effect the music had.   
The headphones were cordless and the mp3 player had a remote, so Dean could play, stop and search.   
The puzzled look that replaced the leer turned to panic and then the head tilted back and honest, pure and joyous laughter came out of the mouth.   
The jaws shut with a click and twinkling, green eyes looked around and locked on to Castiël's blue ones.

Castiël quickly knelt next to the bed again, his hand cupping a cheek. "Dean?"   
A radiant smile, showing that dimple, graced his features. "Yeah. Me again... Thanks doc. I love my surprise."   
And in a sudden move, Dean pressed his full lips onto Castiël's.   
Castiël blinked, but soon melted into the kiss.   
So wrong, but soooo nice. With a slight pang of loss, Castiël pulled out.   
"That was inapropriate, Dean." he said, tracing his lower lip with his thumb.

A saucy wink. "I know, doc, but I feel so alive. I wanted to celebrate. I'm sorry."   
Castiël squared his shoulders. "I would accept that, if you didn't sound like you weren't." he said, but couldn't help but smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more work to do.."   
Dean followed his moves. "Hey, doc..."   
Castiël turned around at the door. "Yes, Dean, you may keep the headphones. I left a remote by your right hand. Sam said you liked these five albums best. I will check in later."   
Dean sent him another radiant smile and leaned back, eyes closed, his foot jiggling to the beat. Castiël thought he'd never seen a more beautiful scene.


	9. Chapter 9

_"If you think I'm hard to handle,_   
_Don't give up so easily."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

For Dean, progress was meassured in little victories over Alastair.   
The very day after doc Novak had given Dean the mp3-player, he brought some books. Vonnegut's _Slaughterhouse_ and Stoker's _Dracula_.   
Dean never let on about it, but he loved reading as much as Sam did. And his brother **knew** it. But it wasn't just that he got books. They were **his** books.   
His very own copies, right from the trunk of his trusty Impala, meaning Sam must have dropped them off.   
Another pile of blankets to smother Alastair's presence.

When doc Novak had walked in on him, laughing at Dracula, his oceanblue eyes had widened.   
"I did not have the impression this was a work of comedy." he had said in that sexy, gravelly voice. Dean had smirked up at him.   
"Oh but it is, doc. It's funny how inaccurate it is." Dean had laughed and gotten back to reading, but he did see the slight smirk the doc had given.   
_'Sammy, you were right about the doc. He knows stuff.'_ Dean had thought, flipping a page and mentally adding three more blankets on Alastair.

Every day the doc would come in and start a round of questions.   
How had Dean's night been, any nightmares? Did Dean feel in control? Any urges to start throwing punches? And so on and so forth.   
Rolling his eyes, Dean answered as thruthfully as he could, without jeapordising Sam's or Bobby's safety or their lives as hunters.   
After a week, the doc came in and stepped right up to the bed, a grim set to his jaw. Dean swallowed hard. Looking like that, the doc was actually pretty intimidating.

"Doc?" he asked, shying away a bit.   
The slender hands shot out and grabbed Dean's right arm, fingers working surely on the manacle. In moments, Dean's restraints were loose and doctor Novak stepped back, radiating relief.   
He caught Dean's veridian eyes with his and smiled. "There. I finally got this approved. You're free to walk around, Dean."   
Dean rubbed the raw spots on his wrists with an incredulous look on his face.

Doctor Novak frowned in displeasure and he grabbed Dean's left wrist.   
His eyes grew cold as he took in the damage.   
"This is unacceptable..." he muttered.   
Stuffing his hands in his labcoat, he stalked out, only to return with a tub of ointment.   
He sat down on the bed, patting on the mattress. "Please, Dean. Sit. I wish to help."

Warily, Dean sat back on the bed. Doctor Novak took his wrist and with cool and certain fingers, he gently applied the ointment on the raw spots.   
"Did you know I tried to get those restraints off since day one?" he admitted in that sexy voice.  
Dean swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pleasant tingling emanating from the fingertips rubbing the sensitive skin.   
He kept his eyes on the doctor's face.

He had such thick and long dark lashes, they should make his face feminine, but they framed the cerulean eyes so perfectly and the slight stubble on his cheeks made sure no-one could think doc Novak a girl.   
The fingers moved to his other wrist, but Dean watched how the doctor's tongue licked his lips in concentration.   
_'Oh shit... That's amazingly... Hot.'_ Dean thought, but it was his thought, not Alastair's.

The day after, the doctor came in, and Dean bit his lip.   
He was wearing a tan trenchcoat that made him look somewhat vulnarable and again very sexy. Then Dean saw what he was carrying, draped over his arm. It was a leather jacket. **His** leather jacket.   
"Since it's such a balmy day out, shall we take today's therapy outside?" the doc asked lightly.

Joy bubbled up in Dean's stomach. "Outside?" he croaked.   
The pink lips pulled into a broad smile, making Dean's stomach flip.   
"Yes. Are you, as they say, game?"   
Dean nodded.   
The doc handed him his jacket and Dean almost teared up as he shucked it on.   
The familiar weight on his shoulders, the smell of leather and Sam and Dad and, somehow, his Impala.

He buried his nose in the collar, inhaling the scent deeply, letting it penetrate his very being. Alastair be damned, Dean felt almost complete again.   
He followed the doc through the hallways and out the backdoor.   
The sun shone on Dean and he revelled in the warmth and late summer scents.   
Doc Novak set a calm pace and Dean easily followed. They sauntered along the paths and Dean was almost happy. They talked more than they normally did and Dean felt this day was the best in months.

"Dean," the doc asked softly. "How do you feel, really **feel** , now?"   
Dean stopped, and stared at the shorter man.   
His dark bedhead, his amazingly blue eyes, the adorable crinkles around them, the pink, kissable lips and he sighed.   
"I'm good, doc. Alastair is still here, but your treating me like a human, like **me** , it keeps him burried deep, weakened and he hasn't been out to play in days."

His eyes caught the green, lucious grass. "Doc?"   
The doc hummed.   
"Can I take off my shoes and socks and just walk through the grass?"   
Doctor Novak chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Of course, Dean."   
Giddy like a child, Dean took off his shoes and socks and sighed happily when the grass tickled under his feet. It had been too long since he'd done that. (Add ten more blankets.)


	10. Chapter 10

_"I just need a good example,_  
_To be who I used to be."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

A couple of days later, Dean had been lying on his bed with his headphones on, doc. Novak had come in.  
He had twirled his favorite chair around and sat down, arms folded over the back of the chair, his chin resting on them.  
"Doc," Dean had asked, after fiddeling a bit with his remote. "You know what's weird?"  
Doc. Novak simply raised his eyebrows.  
"Pray tell me, Dean." he had said, his cerulean eyes darting from Dean's mouth to his eyes.

"There's two songs on here I have never even heard in my life."  
The doctor's eyes widened innocently. "I merely copied the files Sam sent me."  
Dean pouted, a bit dubious. "Strangest thing is, doc, they weren't on there two days ago, Hell, not even yesterday. Another weird thing: I think they are very hopeful, and somehow apply to my very situation. Here..." He held out the headphones for the doc to hear.

The doctor pressed the earpiece to his ear and Dean pressed the button. The cerulean eyes widened infinitessimally, but that was all the change in his face.  
Dean thought he would **love** to play doc. Novak in a poker game. That guy could deadpan!  
"Well, isn't that a lucky coincidence then." the doc had said and pulled out his clipboard. "Time for therapy."  
Dean huffed. "More like twenty questions..."  
A quick quirk of the eyebrow. "I don't understand that reference."  
Dean laughed, head thrown back, a full body laugh. That was another dozen blankets.

oooOooo

Castiël sat in his office, twiddling a pen, his eyes glued to his screen. He had, finally, gotten an answer to his request. He wanted to make the call, so badly, but on the other hand, he'd gotten another mail from his big brother, and that had him worried.

'Hey bro!

I have kept on digging on basement boy,  
and what I found was a whole new can o' worms.  
If you should use the normal eviction procedure,  
chances are the property gets permanently damaged.  
From your waxing praise on it, I'm guessing that is not an option.  
If you were to get him outside said property,  
you might be able to boot his ass out and keep the property whole.

As always,

Anansi'

Castiël sighed. Such progress, and now this...  
He deleted the message, shut down his computer and made his way to room 124.  
He found himself softly singing one of his favorite songs, by an obscure, Dutch band called Moonflower.

"Everything's coming up roses,  
oho, everything's coming up roses.  
This will probably come as close as,  
it gets to Heaven on Earth,  
so I'm taking it as it comes..."

He saw Meg raise an eyebrow at his singing, but he couldn't help it.  
The song calmed him and he needed that right now.  
He pushed open the door to room 124 and sighed.

Dean was laying on his bed, his headphones on, his half hooded eyes in a thousand mile stare, his full, pink lips miming the words along.  
And it looked super sexy.  
Castiël determinedly pushed those feelings down.  
_'Everything's coming up roses...'_

He grabbed his chair and swung it around, to face Dean, who smiled at him, his hands fiddeling with the remote of his mp3.  
Castiël was trying his best not to stare at those perfect lips, wishing he could kiss them again. Somehow he engaged in a conversation about music.  
Dean said it had just appeared on his player.  
Castiël inwardly shrugged. He had heard weirder stuff.

Dean offered him the headphones and he pressed one earpiece to his right ear.  
Determined to keep his face straight, Castiël prepared himself for the onslaught of metal music he expected.  
He was totally gobsmacked when he heard the very song that had been playing through his head. "This will probably be as close as, it gets to Heaven on Earth, so I'm taking it as it comes..."

He filed this away under 'to be investigated later' and grabbed his clipboard.  
When Dean threw his head back and laughed out loud, Castiël felt satisfaction.  
This was what he was supposed to do.  
This was his destiny.  
Another song, by another Dutch band, Delain, popped up in his head.  
This one was like his theme song. He always thought it depicted his relation to his patients.

 _'I'm no Jesus Christ._  
_I'm the one mistake you love to hate._  
 _I apologise._  
 _It's your destiny,_  
 _To get the Devil out of me.'_

When he was satisfied with Dean's answers, Castiël got up.  
He had made up his mind about what to do.  
"If you want, you can go to the yard by yourself today, Dean."  
The green eyes lit up and a brilliant smile was his reward.

At the door Castiël turned around. "You said two songs, didn't you? May I hear the other one too?"  
Dean nodded.  
He searched a bit, smiled and handed him the headphones.  
He pressed it to his ear again and Dean pressed the play button.  
" It's your destiny,  
To get the Devil out of me."  
Castiël swallowed, certain his face was impassive.

"Interesting songs." he said levelly. "Will you go out?"  
Dean nodded fervently. "Then take your music along. Your allowed."  
Another radiant smile. "Thanks doc!" Castiël hurried back to his office. He had a call to make, and things to arrange.


	11. Chapter 11

_"I'm no Jesus Christ._  
_I'm the one mistake you love to hate."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Dean was sitting on one of the benches lining the path.  
He bobbed his head to AC/DC's 'Back in Black' and contently basked in the sun.  
In his mind he wasn't sitting there, but on a bench somewhere along a lake, the sexy doctor Novak next to him, wearing that trenchcoat over his usual suit and tie.  
Dean imagined that he would wind that blue tie around his hand and pull the doc in slowly. 

He would press his lips to those he had been wanting to kiss again ever since the doc gave him his first surprise.  
The doc would pull back at first, dragging his thumb along his lips, like he did the first time, but instead of reproaching Dean for it, he would lean back in and maybe this time Dean would get some tongue action. Or he could shuck off the coat and jacket, to explore that lean frame.  
Dean was certain the good doc had an impressive physique.

He could feel his body respond to the daydream, and he smiled, but before he could pursue it any further, a hand on his shoulder rudely interupted him.  
He felt his face burn, certain it was doctor Novak.

He swallowed hard, took off the headphones, and opened his eyes.  
His jaw dropped. "Sam?!"  
He eyes burned and he stumbled to get up.  
"Sammy!!! Oh god! Tell me I'm not dreaming... Tell me it's really you!"  
He pulled his brother down into a bearhug, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn't cry.

"It's him, ya idjet. Now let him go, so I can get a good look at ya." a gruff voice interupted.  
Dean's eyes flew open, still clenching onto his baby brother.  
"Bobby?!?! What the...." He let Sam go and roughly grabbed his surrogate father to replace the sasquatch. "Oh god! Am I glad to see your ugly mug!"  
Bobby patted him on the back. "Me too, boy. You look like yesterday warmed over, but at least yer eyes are still green."  
Dean huffed. "Yeah, thanks to my new doc. He's amazing!"  
He turned to his brother. "You were right about him, Sammy. He **knows** shit."

He signaled his brother and Bobby to sit down.  
"Alastair is still squatting in me, so I'm not safe yet, but the doc has given me all kinds of leverage to keep that son of a bitch at bay. He'll figure it out."  
Sam smiled sadly. "I'm glad, but Dean, that thing has to be exorsized. Otherwise you'd be in constant danger of him taking over again."  
Dean nodded. "I know, Sam, but I trust doc Novak."  
Bobby scratched his rugged scruff. "So do we, boy. Just hang tight. I got a bottle Johnny Walker Blue waiting for ya. Just give the doc a little time."

oooOooo

Nighttime. Castiël didn't care for it, but he was grateful for it's cover.  
Dean was fast asleep, but restless.  
Castiël stood at his bed and watched for a while, noting that Dean looked gorgeous, even in sleep.  
He knelt down next to the sleeping form of his patient, and whispered in his ear.  
"You are a bright soul, Dean Winchester... And strong too. You have withstood that demon for months now. I know you're scared you might lose it again one day, and you'll get weak, but I'm here now. I'm going to get rid of him, I promise."

Dean sighed and mumbled softly. "Doc... I need a hug."  
Castiël pulled back, surprised, but Dean was still very much asleep.  
Castiël knew he was crossing lines, but Dean was slowly getting under his skin and Castiël couldn't help himself.  
He quickly gave the man a hug.  
It was awkward, but Dean sighed happily and relaxed even further.  
"Thanks doc... How about a kiss?"

Castiël flew back.  
Dean turned over and made silly kissing sounds.  
Castiël frowned at him.  
Still asleep, Dean started making humming noises and a smile graced his features.  
Castiël heaved a relieved breath and started getting his stuff out of his black doctorsbag.

Standing in the salt circle he had cast, Castiël broadened his stance and, very briefly, his eyes glowed with a blue light, while the shadows, cast by the nightlight, just as briefly showed him sporting wings.  
"Time to get to work. Sleep Dean, I'm going to work on getting that white eyed piece of hellspawn out."  
He chanted softly: "Beregida ascha od om ge."  
It was a sweet little spell, which effectively knocked Dean out, without alerting his 'guest'.

Dean stopped humming and fell completely still.  
Castiël slipped out a long, thin blade and nicked his lower arm with it.  
The blood dropped on the piece of paper with the sigil, lying in the bowl with herbs.  
The chink of the lighter Castiël had found in Dean's personal effects echoed in the room.  
Acrid smoke raised from the bowl, when Castiël dropped the flaming sage in on the rest. "Mandatum, et evoco, Alastair. Mandatum, et evoco." Castiël chanted in a growl.

The body on the bed twitched.  
"Come on you evil monster. Mandatum, et evoco, Alastair. Mandatum, et evoco."  
Dean's back arched and his eyes flew open, pearly white without irises.  
"Well, well, well. Our good doctor is skilled is the occult." It was the higher, nasal drawl of Alastair.

"Hello, Alastair. Long time since we met. But I thought I commanded you, demon. Why are you still in your host?"  
Alastair let out a wheezy chuckle. "Sorry kiddo, why don't you go run to daddy? I'm a bit more powerful than you can handle."  
He sat up in the bed and Castiël smirked at him. "Really? Why don't you come and get me then, you assbutt."  
Growling, the demon raised Dean's body from the bed and tried to lunge at Castiël, but an invisible force stopped him.

Castiël grinned maliciously.  
"Seal of Solomon..." he smirked, pointing at the ceiling.  
Alastair cursed and growled, but the seal was effective.  
"Do you remember Dean asking me for my real name?" Castiël casually asked the prowling creature.  
Alastair stopped pacing, and leered at him. "Yes, I do. What of it?"  
Another smirk. "I never gave it."  
Lowering his head threateningly, Castiël looked at him with saphire-hard eyes. "It's Castiël..."

Alastair widened his eyes and hissed. "An angel..."  
Then he wheezed another laugh. "No matter.... I'm still too powerful for you. Your little spell didn't do Jack shit to get me out of this fine piece of ass, and now I'm in control once more."  
He cackled and Castiël felt his wings puff up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian translation:  
> Beregida ascha od om ge - sleep well and don’t remember  
> Latin translation:  
> Mandatum, et evoco - Command and summon


	12. Chapter 12

_"I apologise._  
_It's your destiny,_  
_To get the Devil out of me."_

_~Delain - Get the Devil out of me~_

Castiel smiled without mirth, turning it into a predatory grin.  
"My 'little spell' was just a diversion, assbutt."  
Thunder cracked outside and lightning flashed, showing shadowy wings spread out widely behind Castiël.  
"You will never be too powerful for me, Alastair. I am a Seraph. One of the 'Shining ones'. The order of angels closest to God."

Alastair blinked, but still stood straight. "Then why am I still inside your boyfriend, huh, Seraph?"  
He sneered the last word.  
"Because, hellspawn, my 'boyfriend' has relatives, family. And they would like to give me a little hand in kicking your behind."

Castiël waved a hand and the door opened, showing Sam and Bobby, slightly awed at the display Castiël had made.  
"Come on in. I'm about to, how did you put that so eloquently, mr. Singer? Ah, yes... I'm about to go Biblical on his ass." Castiël said with a sassy toss of his head.  
He tossed the long, slender blade towards Sam, who caught it in one hand.  
Bobby pulled out a battered notebook and glared at Alastair. "Ready, Castiël."  
Sam merely nodded.  
Castiël directed his glare back at Alastair. "Right then. Once more, but now with a little more kick." he said.

He spread his arms and wings wide, threw his head back and in a clear, bell like voice chanted: "OL ALONUSAHI OD ZODAMETA!"  
The effect was instantatious.  
Alastair wailed and threw back Dean's head, thick black smoke pouring from his mouth.  
The smoke congealed into a writing mass, vaguely humanoid in form, Dean dropping down like a string puppet whose strings got cut.

"DEAN!!" Sam twitched, as if he wanted to run towards him, but Castiël threw out his arm out to stop him.  
Satisfied, Castiël turned to Bobby. "Would you like to do the honours, mr. Singer?"  
Grimly, Bobby started reading from his little note book.  
"Excorziamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,"  
The writing smoke emitted a wheezing chuckle. "Pathetic... That won't work on me, puny human..."  
Bobby didn't even blink. Steadfast, he kept on reading. "Omnis satanicas potestas, Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, Omnis legio, Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

More wheezing. "It doesn't even tickle..."  
Castiël cast a quick glance at Sam, who tightened his grip and whose gaze never left the demonic apparition.  
Meanwhile, Bobby kept going. "Ergo, draco maledicte."  
Mirthless laughter drifted from the smoke and Sam tensed.  
"Ecciesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus. Audi nos."  
At the last words, Sam lunged forward, plunging the slender blade into the writing mass of smoke, and twisting it upwards. Yellow light cracked around the blade and the smoke dissipitated in flashes of orange and yellow light.

Castiël relaxed his wings and his stance.  
"There. That should have killed him once and for all. I thank you for your assistance, Sam, mr. Singer."  
Sam ran towards his brother's still form. "Will he be allright?"  
Castiël nodded. "Here. Allow me."  
He easily picked up the 6' 2", 200 pound man, cradling him like a baby, and gently laid him on his bed.

Sam blinked. "How'd you do that? He's got like two inches and who knows how many pounds on you..."  
Castiël smiled. "I'm an angel, you ass." he answered softly, making Bobby snigger.  
"I'm sorry. So... That spell you used, to get the demon out? What was that?" Sam asked.  
Castiël kept sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Dean's peaceful face.  
Without turning, he answered: "Basically, the same spell as the first Latin one. I simply said: I command and conjure thee. Only the second time I used Enochian."  
Seeing Sam's blank look, he added: "the language of Angels. Being the First Language, it pulls different strings."

Sam looked intrigued.  
"I'll scrounge up some books on th' subject. Now let the guy take care of yer idjet brother." Bobby interjected.  
Castiël gently laid two fingers against Dean's forehead and whispered: "Torezodu od bolape ascha."  
Dean twitched his nose, which Castiël thought adorable, and rolled onto his side, mumbling: "Y' wanna wake me, Sammeh... Br'ng pie."  
Sam snorted.

"There. He'll wake up tomorrow, and for the sake of subterfuge, I will release him from our care next week." Castiël said low.  
They quietly left room 124. Sam walked up to the angel and hugged him tight. "Thank you, Castiël."  
Castiël patted his back a little awkward, but he smiled. "No problem, Sam. Anytime."  
Bobby held out his hand and shook Castiël's. "Anytime I hear of some poor bastard being posessed, and thought t' be cuckoo's nest, I'll advice ye. It'd be nice to keep our hunting buddies outta the nuthouse."  
Castiel chuckled. "I'll keep an eye out for your friends, mr. Singer."  
"Bobby, please." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian translation:  
> Torezodu od bolape ascha. - arise and be well
> 
> And just for funsies, and thanks to the Supernatural Wiki page: the entire Excorsism and translation. 
> 
> Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te... cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare... Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis... Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine... quem inferi tremunt... Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.
> 
> Translation: "We exorcise you, every impure spirit, every satanic power, every incursion of the infernal adversary, every legion, every congregation and diabolical sect. Therefore, diabolical legions, we adjure you ... Cease to deceive human creatures, and to give to them the poison of eternal damnation; ... Be gone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation ... Be humble under the mighty hand of God; tremble and flee when we invoke the Holy and Terrible Name at which those down below tremble ... ... from the snares of the devil, deliver us, O Lord . That Thy Church may serve Thee in peace and liberty to serve, we ask Thee, hear us.


	13. Chapter 13

_Epilogue_

_One week later._

Dean was sitting on the bench again, his mind blissfully empty of any and all demons.  
He didn't know how doc Novak had done it, but for about a week now, Alastair had mysteriously vanished, leaving no trace behind but the nasty memories.  
And the attraction to the good doctor, that clearly wasn't Alastair's doing.  
Dean still felt his heart go into palpatations when he saw that lanky silhouet or the dark sexhair. Like now.  
He could see him saunter towards him and he worried his lower lip not to pull him in for a kiss.  
That one taste had him hooked. "Hello doc. Nice day out, isn't it?"

The doc actually set his fine butt next to Dean's on the bench.  
"Castiël." he said simply.  
"What?" That cute smile, crinkling up the corners of his eyes.  
"Castiël. My name is Castiël."  
Dean gaped at him. "Isn't that against your moral code or something?"  
This time Castiël laughed out loud, his nose scrunging up and his gums showing. "Generaly, yeah..." he breathed. "But not with you. Not anymore."  
Dean rolled his eyes, thinking what might have changed, when Castiël turned around and smiled. "Look... You have company."

Dean whipped his head around.  
"Sam! Bobby! You got visitation rights now?"  
Sam smiled, his dimples showing. "Sorta." he amended. "Castiël, good to see you."  
Castiël, what kinda name was that? Dean decided to shorten it. Cas... Yeah, Cas.  
Cas stood up and shook Sam's sasquatch hand. "Sam. All is well, I trust."  
A nod, but then Sam got a shove from Bobby. "Move over, ya idjet. Hello Castiël. Did ya get my note on Martin?"  
Another, warm smile. "Bobby. Yes I did, and the transferral papers have already been sighed. He's coming over tomorrow. Though I'm willing to bet he will not be as much trouble as this one."  
Cas smirked, he smirked! as he indicated Dean.

"Hahah. Very funny. Now, how come you are all on a firstname basis?"  
Bobby glowered at him. "Just cuz, ya nozy twit."  
Sam was fidgeting with something, and Dean got distracted.  
"Whatcha doing there, Sam?"  
Sam bowed his head, trying to look innocent. "Oh, just, ya know... Thinking of a way to give you this back..."  
He held put his huge hand and dangling from it was Dean's amulet.  
Dean turned to Cas. "Are... Are you sure I can have that back? Are you **sure** , Cas?"  
Cas raised his eyebrows. "Yes I am certain. It is fine, Dean. But.... Cas?"  
Dean grinned. "I like it." he stated.  
A minute tilt to the head, and a shrug. "Allright then..."

Sam was still fidgeting.  
"Geez, Sam! Ants in your pants?" Dean jibed.  
That got him a halfhearted bitchface.  
"No. But... I got more to give you."  
Dean frowned. Now what?  
Beaming, his baby brother held out a set of keys. They jangled familiarly.  
Dean whipped around to Cas.  
"No... You're kidding?"

A fond smile. "No, I'm not, Dean." Cas said warmly.  
Dean took the keys with shaking hands.  
The keys, his keys... The keys to his Baby!!!  
All of a sudden he grabbed Cas and locked his mouth onto the pink, chapped lips that were haunting his dreams. Cas stiffened, but then melted into the kiss.  
"How did you do it, Cas? How?" Dean demanded after pulling away.  
Another of those hot smirks. "Simple... We excorsised and killed that assbutt."  
Dean choked. "Assbutt?"  
Bobby chuckled. "Your smacktalk needs a little work there, Cas."

Cas grinned at him. "Well, I have Dean here to get me up to speed."  
He kissed Dean on the lips. "If he'll have me."  
Dean blinked. This was all going a bit fast. "Wait...what?"  
Cas looked him straight in the eyes. "I love you, Dean Winchester. And if you don't mind the species thing, I'd like to, how do you say that? 'Be an item'?"

Dean sat back down with a huff.  
He loved him. Cas, the beautiful, talented, sweet, kind, amazing doctor Castiël Novak, loved him... His heart clenched, then grew ten times.  
"I... I lo... Oh god, yes, Cas! Wait... Species thing?"

Cas smiled fondly and put two fingers up to his forehead.  
"Om tofagilo." he said and a blueish glow came from his fingertips.  
"What was....Oh my god...." Dean looked up, panicked. "An angel? You're a fucking ANGEL?"  
Sam choked on air and Bobby coughed.  
Cas simply smiled. "Angel, yes. A Seraph actually. Fucking... Not yet..."  
He looked mischievous.  
"What did you do, Cas?" Sam asked curiously.  
"I told him to remember. He was there, just not taking anything to memory."  
Dean blinked. "You three were pretty badass. But, Cas... I still need some time to process this." Cas smiled. "I'll be here."

_Five years later_

"You know, Cas. If it wasn't for you... I'd still be in Hell."  
An exasperated look. "Dean, you were never in Hell. Not litterally."  
They were sitting on the porch in front of their motel room, beer in hand.  
"Well, having that buttmonkey Alastair squatting me, made it feel like torture." Dean took a swig.  
Cas twiddled his bottle.  
"I never told you this, did I?" he asked.  
"Told me what, Cas?"

A blush crept up Cas face and even after years, Dean found it adorable.  
"How proud I was of you. You got posessed, but for four freaking months, you held on to yourself. You kept being you, to some degree. And Alastair was no nameless demon number three. He was Hell's master torturer. Very high ranking. Yet when I first saw you, your soul still shone so bright!"  
Dean rubbed his neck. "First time I saw you... I couldn't stop staring. You looked so **hot**!" A cocky grin. "You still do. I'm a lucky guy."  
Cas smiled, took their empty bottles and set them aside. "You still look sexy as Hell, Dean. You know what... We'll cancel dinner and stay in."

Dean looked shocked.  
"We can't! Sam will have a fit, Bobby will come on over and drag us there..."  
Cas mused. "Hm. You're right. Ah well, better get ready for our aniversary dinner."  
Dean shoved him. "You're going to wear a tux."  
Cas gently shoved back. "You too.... Oh my... I hope dinner will be over soon. I love stripping you out of a tux!"  
Dean laughed. "Come on, angel. Showtime!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian translation:  
> Om tofagilo - remember all
> 
> Thank you all for reading. I hope my mind stops giving me plotbunnies, but I fear me that is an idle hope.
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
